“Secret admirer?”
Arden didn’t answer right away. Her fingers curled more tightly around her coffee cup, the heat a welcome contrast to the cold uncoiling beneath her ribs.
“Apparently.” Her voice was calm, unshaken. “Some guy left it with the barista. Said I’d know what it meant.”
Sebastian studied the flower like it was a riddle only he could solve.
“No note? No signature?”
“Just the rose.”
Her smile was small and unreadable. Measured.
She wasn’t going to give him anything more.
He leaned back, tilting his head. “Curious.”
There was something too focused in his stare, like he was collecting her responses, filing them away for later. He was good at that—quietly gathering, silently circling. Watching for weakness he could turn into leverage.
Then, as if on cue, his gaze returned to the flower.
“Here I thought lavender lattes were your thing?”
Her throat tightened before she could stop it. Barely a breath, but he caught it.
His smile deepened, just enough to show teeth.
“Thought so.”
He shouldn’t have known that.
She’d never told him.
Never told anyone, except maybe Gideon in passing.
But Sebastian wasn’t guessing.
He was letting her know he’d been watching.
Lavender. Roses. Warnings wrapped in flowers.
She lifted her cup and took a slow sip, letting the ceramic shield her face.
“Not today.”
That was all she gave him.
No confirmation. No denial. Just a wall.
He didn’t press. Didn’t need to.
He was already in the room.
That was the point.
His hand drifted toward the flower again, not touching, but close enough to cast another shadow.
“It’s bold,” he said, voice low and even. “That kind of attention tends to come with a cost.”
